Take Care of You
by rachelstana
Summary: After Joe breaks up with Quinn before her sophomore year of college, she moves to NYC to attend NYU with Santana. Santana still has unresolved feelings for Quinn though. Mentions Brittana and Joe/Quinn
1. Chapter 1

**So I've been lacking muse for Bittersweet Revenge and my other stories because omg they're soooooo freaking sad. So, I thought a more happy fic would lift my spirits. So tada. This idea has been in my head for awhile anyway, props to Drake and Rihanna for it. I apologize for the shortness, I was on a flight.**

**I don't own Glee yaddayaddayadda**

**Review Review Review!**

* * *

"So, are you going to tell me why you're here yet?"

The blonde shook her head, still looking down to the coffee that was growing cold as the minutes ticked away.

"Q, please. You know I'm not one for pleading, just… Tell me. You're acting like someone died."

Running a slow hand through her hair, Quinn knew she needed to open up her mouth and explain before Santana threw her fork at her. While she hoped that the raven haired beauty wouldn't, you could never be sure with her. "You know you can guess what happened. You're not stupid, so why not just put two and two together."

Licking her lips, Santana did her usual response, the eye roll. "Quinn, I know that much. But why are you still /here/? If you two are over why run to here…"

Looking up to meet her eyes, Quinn shrugged. Honestly, she doesn't know what exactly the pull was that brought her here to this place. She needed a friend, she supposed, and since Brittany was off touring, Quinn really did have no one else in Ohio. So, New York did seem ideal, especially since it was very simple for her to transfer to NYU with such short notice. "I just… I had nobody else, Sanny. I only have the people that are here in NYC."

Nodding slowly, Santana took a sip of her coffee, flicking the lettuce around on her plate. "I know but… Running? It just doesn't seem much like you. Where's the HBIC we all know and love?"

Chuckling, the blonde turned away. "She died with the relationship between her and the only guy she actually loved since the baby."

"So you leave Yale for NYU over that? I'm sorry but I'm confused…"

"I told you already, S! I needed to get out of that, I needed to be with friends. Plus, law wasn't all I thought it'd be. I miss singing, having fun with all of you. Just please, can you at least consider what I asked?"

Frowning, Santana nodded slowly. It wasn't that much that she was asking for, however it did mean that Quinn was probably hiding more than just a break up with Teen Jesus.

* * *

Walking back to her apartment, she groaned, flopping face down on the couch. Really, she didn't know why she had to think over the question, but she did. It wasn't a huge deal; it was just a simple, and a rather easy, request. Yet, her she was, face planted on the couch acting drunk.

"Santana? What are you doing home so early?"

Lifting her head, Santana frowned, locking eyes with Rachel. Santana's apartment had become the crashing place for everyone when visiting was happening because of her mother's generous donation to such a nice place. However, Rachel had a habit of coming over when she was bored and too overwhelmed and needed someone to have fun with that wasn't threatening to break out into song every quarter of a second.

"I thought you had to meet up with someone?"

Nodding, Santana sat up; patting the spot next to her so Rachel would get the idea to sit. "Yeah, I did. I'll explain it all, but can you stay quiet the entire way through so I don't have to hit you?" Rolling her eyes, Rachel sat next to Santana, motioning for her to continue. "Okay, so I got a call from Quinn, that's why I went out." Santana saw it, the twitch at the corner of Rachel's, showing she was itching to say something. Thankfully, she refrained. "Apparently, Teen Jesus broke up with her, so she moved here, and now she wants to move in with me."

Raising an eyebrow, Rachel got the nod that showed she could talk. "For one, how could you not have invited me? I'm rather insulted. Just because I'm both married and in school does not mean I cannot have a life! Secondly, wow… What did you say to her?"

"I… I said I had to think about it?"

The eyebrow still raised, it was apparent that the little diva was pissed. "Think about it? One of your best friends needs you and you say you have to 'think about it'?"

"Rachel, it's complicated. I can't have her around, not after-"

Holding up her hand, she shook her head. "Uh, no. Not an excuse and you know it. Just because of those things does not mean you get to be a complete jerk to your friend, /our/ friend."

Frowning, Santana knew Rachel was right. It was strange, how Rachel really did seem to have a sixth sense and was able to tell what Santana was thinking. It's how she pried everything out of Santana when they were drunk at parties together. "I know… Just, okay, if I do, you cannot tell her those two things. She doesn't know about either, and I really don't want to discuss it, especially that certain one."

Laughing, Rachel nodded. "I won't tell her about you and Brittany, nor will I mention the crush issues. I promise. Besides, not mine to tell. I'll only be able to see her when you allow me over probably."

Smirking, she nodded. "You have a key though, should I revoke your key privileges?"

Glaring, Rachel shook her head, standing. "Rude. But text Quinn, we can help her move in a.s.a.p." Turning to walk, she turned to face her when she reached the door, "And don't worry so much. I really think that she'd be more understanding than you give her credit for."

While Rachel was right, Santana still couldn't take that. Liking someone for this long? It was bound to turn bad for her.

* * *

After a text and a few days for Quinn to situate the final paper work, she was officially moved into the apartment. Her room was right next to Santana's, and since they were both majoring in the same thing, it made things much easier.

It was weird to Santana, waking up every morning and seeing Quinn in the kitchen cooking. It felt like something more than it should.

Tonight, Santana was supposed to have the place to herself. Quinn and Rachel were out somewhere, probably karaoke, and Santana had a test to cram for before she drove herself insane with procrastination.

The apartment was peaceful at night, despite the outside noises of cars, police sirens, and an arrange of other noises that took little to no time to get used to. Looking up to the clock, Santana sighed. It was getting late, and if she had any hope of a wink of sleep, she should probably head to bed now rather than later. She wasn't too concerned anyway, since she was actually really good with history, especially art wise.

Standing up and walking into the bedroom, she stripped down to her sports bra and boy shorts, stretching before slipping into her bed, closing her eyes and feeling sleep coming quickly.

However, she wasn't allowed to enjoy it for long before she felt a warm hand shake her gently. "Sanny?"

Cracking an eye open, Santana groaned, looking up to her. "Quinn, the fuck, it's like… Three in the morning. I was in mid beauty sleep."

"I know I just…"

Santana heard a sniffle, and it was then that she noticed the tears that filled Quinn's eyes, the sadness on her face. "Oh god, what happened? Whose balls do I need to spoon feed to an alligator?"

There was a faint smile, which brought an ache to the Latina's chest. "Can I sleep with you tonight? I'm still scared…"

"Scared of what?" With that, a loud sound of thunder echoed, shaking the apartment a bit. Chuckling, Santana raised an eyebrow. "I don't think that's the only reason but… Yeah, whatever. Just don't whore the blanket like usual, I get cold easily."

Nodding, Quinn quickly slipped under the covers, curling into Santana and burying her face into her chest. She was quiet like that, both of them were, just the sound of their soft breathing. Santana was used to this; it's been like it since they were kids. Quinn had always been scared of thunder, because of the flashbacks to her father. Plus, it was fall; it had a tendency to rain here.

"Hey Sanny?"

"Mm?" Santana had almost been asleep, but Quinn was her first priority right now.

"Thank you… For taking care of me."

Santana nodded, pressing a soft kiss into the blonde's hair. "Course. Now go to sleep, I have a test and I need to look pretty for it."


	2. Chapter 2

Ever since Quinn moved in, it was almost eerie how nothing seemed to really change. Rachel was still constantly over, just instead of bugging Santana, she would float towards Quinn. When everyone came over to visit, they all sat and gathered for movies in their usual places, despite the new extra. No questions were asked, it was as though it was supposed to be that way, in which no one questioned the sudden change.

She felt alone though, except with Rachel. No one else really knew her old harbored feelings except for Rachel and, of course, Brittany. B wasn't around though, not anymore, so the only person she had was Rachel. No one else but Rachel. Deep down, Santana knew eventually she'd have to tell Quinn, but everything was going so well so far, she saw no point in mentioning something that could potentially ruin their friendship.

So, the day was going as usual. Classes started a few months ago so Santana was enjoying her day free of classes, watching old cartoons on the television while Quinn was gone.

Really though, she wasn't paying attention to the cartoons. If anything, they were just a soft melody in the background as she stared at the ceiling. She needed to tell Q, at least about Brittany. She was already asking around what happened, but no one would tell her. It wasn't too awful; it was though, a memory that Santana despised living through over and over again.

Her phone began to vibrate though, snapping her out of her thoughts. A welcomed relief, really. Smiling, she shook her head down at the message from Quinn.

_**Q: I'm bored. Do you want to get coffee?**_

Rolling her eyes, Santana sat up. She wasn't exactly dressed, but she certainly could get dressed before Quinn's class ended.

_**S: Sure. Shouldn't you be paying attention, Fabray?**_

She hardly even had a second to stand up.

_**Q: Like I said, bored. Class will be over in forty, meet you at the usual place?**_

_**S: Always.**_

"I am going to laugh my ass off when you get your phone taken."

Quinn rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Not going to happen. Unlike some people, I can hide my phone while I text."

"One time! And that was high school. They cared more back then. You're never going to let me live it down, are you?" Santana chuckled, shaking her head.

"You were sexting B during a lecture on poetry… It's hard not to tease you."

Their chuckles died down at the mention of her name. Brittany. Santana knew it was going to come up eventually. It's not that she wasn't over the incident; it was just that it still stung a bit from time to time. After all, she did believe she was marrying the dancer within a month.

"S... I know you don't want me to ask but, what happened to Brittany?"

Sighing, Santana sat up, taking a sip of her coffee. "It started after she came to New York first semester last year…"

_Brittany was quieter than usual tonight. There they were, cuddled in Santana's bed, Santana playing with Brittany's hair as she sat in pure silence. It hung in the air uneasily, making it hard for Santana to even breathe at this point. _

"_Britt? What're you thinking about?"_

_Sighing, Brittany pulled away slightly, licking her lips as she sat up, resting her back against the headboard. "San, you know I love you right? No matter what?"_

_Santana nodded slowly, sitting up slightly. "Brittany, is everything okay? Did something happen?"_

_Shaking her head, she ran her fingers through her hair. "Santana, it's just… You've changed, a lot. It's weird. Back in Ohio you were the HBIC, and with Quinn and I, it just… You were fierce and I loved that. Now you're just… Weak…"_

_Sitting up quickly, Santana raised an eyebrow. "B, I'm still me… Ever since I've come out though, you know a lot of my pent up anger and protectiveness has worn off. What's wrong with that? I thought you liked me when I was soft."_

"_I do, but not when you act the same to Rachel as you do to me."_

"_So I can't be nice to Rachel? That's stupid."_

_Brittany shook her head, turning to face Santana entirely. "No, not what I meant. I mean… You treat me like a friend, not a girlfriend."_

_Freezing, Santana scanned her face, feeling her heart crush in her chest the more Brittany talked. "I love you, B… You know I do. That's why we hold hands, why we kiss, why I make love to you. It's why you wear that ring on your left ring finger. We're getting married; I wouldn't do that with just anyone."_

"_But you're doing it with the wrong person," Brittany snapped. There it was, hurt in her eyes. She knew. Brittany knew about that secret Santana had been keeping since junior year of high school._

"_Brittany… I love you. This is right. I've been fighting for you since we were kids." Santana's eyes were full of tears, fighting to come out, but she held them back. She couldn't cry in front of Brittany, not now._

"_I know… And that's why I came here." Licking her lips, Brittany reached down to her left hand, pulling the ring off slowly. "To let you go."_

_Sniffling, Santana shook her head, grabbing Brittany's hand tightly. "No, B. Come on, don't do this, please."_

_Shaking her head, Brittany stood up from the bed, placing the ring on the nightstand. "I can't, Santana." Leaning over the bed, she kissed her forehead gently, sighing. "I'll always be your friend though, pinky promise."_

_She held up her hand, extending her pinky. Santana hesitated, knowing that if she didn't fight, this would be the end. How could she though, when Brittany could see that while she did love her, Santana's heart fully belonged to someone else? _

_Finally, Santana took Brittany's pinky with her own, her head falling in defeat. _

"_I'll see you around, S." And with that, Brittany took her things, and she was gone._

Quinn frowned, looking at Santana's face. It hurt her to tell the story; she could see it, so very clearly. "Santana, I… I'm so sorry."

Shaking her head, Santana looked up to her, licking her lips. "No. Don't be. It was for the best. I text her every so often but things really have changed. She's actually off doing a tour with someone right now. She's happy."

Reaching across the table and taking Santana's hand, Quinn scanned her face. "Are you happy?"

Squeezing her hand gently, she nodded to the blonde. "Yeah, I really am."


	3. Chapter 3

It was surprising how well they were living together, really. Their schedules were perfect, both being able to meet for lunch between classes and one promising to pick up dinner on their way home from class. Following that, if it was a weekday, they'd spend it studying or watching cheesy horror films. If it was a weekend however, Santana would spend it in attempts to get Quinn out of the house and out to parties. Which, of course, never seemed to work out.

"Q, come on. You cannot hide you sexy ass in this apartment forever."

"I sure as hell can try, Santana," she murmured bitterly, crossing her arms over her chest in defense.

Every single weekend was like this, every move the same. For crying out loud, Santana was just trying to get Quinn out of the insanely pitiful slump she was in. This was getting ridiculous, seeing Quinn wrapped up in a blanket with messed up, unshowered hair pulled up into a sloppy bun, no makeup, sitting in front of the TV and watching stupid romantic comedies. At this point, she belonged in one.

"Come on… Don't you think this is a tiny bit ridiculous?" Pleading, this was a new low, but anything to get Quinn out of her fucking apartment. This was ridiculous and pretty heart breaking at the same time.

Santana watched as the blonde pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing it nervously. She was not one to feel guilt or pity, but when she did, it was pretty strong. As Santana looked down to her friend, her heart broke a bit more. She didn't know what happened, but it Quinn was wallowing in self-pity, it was probably a big deal.

Sighing softly, Santana sat next to her, fingers moving to tuck a stand of loose blonde hair behind the other girl's ear. "Okay, look… I know whatever Jesus Braids did to you was pretty bad, but come on… You're Quinn Fabray, daddy problems expert." She deserved the harsh glare she got, but Santana continued, "Point is, you always bounce back. And now is time to do it again." Reaching down, she took Quinn's hand into hers, funny how they fit together so well. "We don't have to go and get drunk, how about… I don't know why don't we go out for a proper dinner? Or, we could go see a movie, walk around Times Square to see how many insane people we find… You just _need_ to get out, Q."

They were silent, only their breathing and the background noise from the movie echoing in the apartment. Finally though, Quinn began to nod, squeezing Santana's hand before getting up.

"You're right," she murmured, smiling a bit as she looked up to her. "Let's go out, we can go to that gay club you always talk to me about, I'll be your wingman."

Chuckling, Santana shook her head, waving Quinn off as a sign for her to get ready.

"I've never seen so many at once…"

"What, gay people? I thought you went to pride while you were at Yale…"

"No, men in assless chaps."

"Again, pride at Yale?"

They laughed, Quinn shaking her head as she took a sip of her drink. Some fruity drink some girl had bought for her while Santana took another sip of her vodka. She was a girl who like her drinks straight, she liked the burning sensation it gave.

Looking out across the dance floor, she felt Quinn lean close. "What about that one?" she whispered, gesturing to the woman across the floor grinding against a few of her friends.

"Q, she looks just like Berry, no…"

Rolling her eyes and crossing her arms, she huffed, pouting. "You're so goddamn picky; no wonder you're not getting laid."

That was enough to light a fire under Santana, accepting it as a challenge more than anything. "Excuse me? For your information, any of the women would be _lucky_ to get in bed with me; I am a goddess in the sack, okay Q?"

Smirking, Quinn nodded sarcastically, taking another sip of her drink. "Sure S, sure."

Right then, Santana stood, leaving her drink and walking over to the girl.

"Hey," she whispered, pressing her body up against the other girl's front. "Wanna dance?"

"Mmmhm," the girl muttered, taking a gentle hold of Santana's hand and leading her away from her friends before pulling Santana against her, pretty much dry humping her leg.

The girl really did look a lot like Rachel, disturbingly so. Only differences were that this girl was taller and she had some crappy blue contacts in. But hey, sex was sex, and from what she was feeling, the girl felt the same way.

"God you're hot," the girl whispered, nipping as the Latina's neck. The groan was unintentional; she was always weak when it came to her collarbone.

It didn't take love before the pair were in a dark corner, feverishly kissing. The kisses were sloppy, drunk, the kind of kisses that Santana preferred to do without. She preferred her partners sober but it had been so long. The shorter girl moved her lips down Santana's neck as she tangled her fingers into her hair, causing Santana to gasp.

Her eyes opened when the girl bit down, and what Santana saw sent a boil in her blood.

There was Quinn, with some girl flirting with her. It pissed her off, and she didn't get why. She was blushing at the other girl's words, and it was apparent that Quinn was flirting back. God, that fire that lit inside of Santana was too much to bear.

Pushing the other girl away slowly, she sighed at the loss of contact. "Sorry, go find some other girl to fuck." With that, she marched right over to Quinn, wrapping her arm around her shoulder.

It obviously freaked out Quinn, but whatever. "Hey hun, having fun?" Santana asked, eyes locking with the other girl's.

"Oh, yeah. This is Kelly, she and I have been talking. Kelly, this is-"

"Santana Lopez." Santana finished for her, watching as the other woman sat straight, rolling her eyes and walking away, murmuring something that Santana couldn't make out.

"You okay, S?" Quinn whispered, looking up to her. "You have like… Ten hickeys on your neck."

"Yeah, fine. Just think this place is lame and dead wanna go home and watch some stupid movie?"

They left, just like that, moving through the growing pile of people that made the room pass what had to be the legal limit. But what did Santana care, she left with her arm wrapped defensively around Quinn's shoulders.


End file.
